


In Wine There Is Truth

by ArwenaminMaeleth



Category: AU! Tom Hiddleson, Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston/ Reader - Fandom, Tom/ Reader, Tom/ Reader Insert
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Marital Troubles, Married Couple, Mention of Vulnerability, Problems, kiss and make up, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 09:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17485433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenaminMaeleth/pseuds/ArwenaminMaeleth
Summary: She has had just about enough of Tom and his lack of affection towards her, but instead of talking she turns to the wine. As the saying goes; In Vino Veritas. In wine there is the truth.





	In Wine There Is Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I am not entirely sure where the inspiration came from for this one but I do hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> (N) is my way of writing (Y/N). 
> 
> It does mention alcohol abuse and vulnerable young adults, for those who may be triggered by mentions of such topics, it is advised that you do not continue.   
> xx

“Anybody home?” Tom dropped his bag by the door, calling out in to the seemingly empty house.

_Nothing._

_That’s odd._

5pm. The house was usually buzzing with noise, the au-pair running around after their daughter, or her son causing some sort of racket. On an average day he would be praying to any God available to hear him out for just an ounce of peace and quiet. Finally, his prayers had been answered and it didn’t quite sit right with him.   
  
Peaking down the hall he noticed a dim glow coming from the living-room. It was either (N) or the au-pair had left the lights on again. He really had to tell her to make sure they were all off before leaving the house. Hanging his keys up, he made his way towards the gentle glow, a little cautious.

Upon entering the room, he noticed (N) sat in the armchair, cradling a glass of wine in her hand. His eyes flickered to the bottle that sat at the side of the chair, already half empty. _Again?_ He thought. It had been the second time this week he had come home to her starting in to space, drinking until the alcohol tired her out.   
  
“(N), didn’t you hear me?” He brought her attention to him. She had barely moved since he walked in, indicating that she hadn’t heard him. “(N)?” He tried again.  
  
“Hmm?” She replied, turning to where his voice was coming from. She looked him up and then down, before looking back at the spot on the wall she had been focusing on for the past hour or so. “Where were you?” She enquired, her speech just a little slurred.  
  
“It doesn’t matter. Enjoying the wine again I see?” He didn’t intend for it to be passive aggressive, but she heard it that way; a half-hearted laugh escaping her lips.   
  
“Oh yes. It is definitely better company than you are at the moment.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, and where are the children?”   
  
“You know exactly what it means, and don’t worry they’re in good hands. They’re at my mother’s.” She snapped, taking another - much larger - sip from her glass.  
  
“You know, alcohol isn’t an appropriate coping mechanism. It’s would be much easier to talk to someone.” He pointed out, although it fell on deaf ears; the last half at least.   
  
“What do you mean, ‘alcohol isn’t an appropriate coping mechanism’?” She laughed, cynicism dripping from every note. “It’s working.”  
  
She finished the glass and got up, stumbling just a little. It was not that she was drunk. In her opinion she wasn’t drunk enough. No, she just stood up too quick - that’s all. He put out his arm to steady her, worried she’d fall, but he barely had chance before she moved out of his reach.  
  
“Don’t.” Her dilated hues sent him the most disgusted stare possible.   
  
“What the fuck is your problem, (N)?” Finally, he had had enough. Enough of her taking whatever was on her mind out on him. Instead of just talking to him, she would constantly berate him, giving him riddles in hopes that he would figure out what the matter was. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’ve done nothing but push me away recently, drowning your sorrows in wine and falling asleep downstairs.”  
  
“What’s the point sleeping in our bed anymore?” She started. “You don’t even notice when I am not there. You get in, you turn off the lamp and just go to sleep.” She grabbed the bottle, aiming to fill up her glass again, missing its contents.

Tom took the bottle from her and held it out of her reach. He wasn’t finished yet and he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was eating at his wife. She scowled, protesting and demanding that he gave her back the bottle.  
  
“Not until you stop talking to me in riddles and tell me what the fuck is wrong!?”  
  
“Fine!” She sighed, slamming her glass down on the table. “You want to know?” He nodded, hoping she would just get to the point.  
  
“We haven’t had sex in months! There. That’s what’s bugging me.” She folded her arms across her chest. Usually she would do her best to make sure her cleavage looked that little bit more appealing when she did, but it was no use - he no longer cared.

Tom opened his mouth but then closed it again. He was desperate to prove her wrong, but she had a point. They hadn’t had sex in quite a while. _When was the last time we-?_   
  
“Have I put on weight? Do I smell? What is it that has put you off me all of a sudden?” She rattled off a list of possibilities, trying to figure out how they had gone from hot to not – at all. Whilst they weren’t rabbits, their sex life was definitely above average for a couple with a young daughter and a teenage son. When people complained of not getting enough due to children and family responsibilities (N) and Tom would just laugh. There was never a problem, not until recently.

“No, you’re still as beautiful as the day we met.” He reassured her, although his voice faltered a little. He was worried he would have to tell her what was really bothering him. It was not her, it was work.  
  
As a social worker, specifying in taking care of those with substance abuse problems, Tom worked with many different types of people and it wasn’t rare for them to grow attached to him in some sort of way. For some it was a card or a box of chocolates to thank him for his time and endless efforts, but for one client in particular, that wasn’t enough. Lately this one client had been getting a little too close, ignoring the protocol of keeping the relationship purely professional. Instead, she would constantly seek him out, asking him when he would take her on a date or spend some time with her. It wasn’t her fault. She was an alcoholic and had dependency issues. He was just concerned that she had started to attach herself to him to the degree where she believed he owed her something, a return of her affections perhaps. Being the gentle soul that he always was, Tom had done his best to put her off, to tell her he was there to help her but there were rules. Also, he was married. Still, he felt like she had not heard any part of what he had said, doing her best to make a move on him.  
  
Without noticing, his worries had started coming home with him. Ultimately, it resulted in him ignoring his wife. So much that he hadn’t even noticed her sleeping downstairs more often. (N) was an affectionate woman, always wanting to cuddle and be close to her husband; she craved physical intimacy. Yet, for the past couple of months he felt he couldn’t give her what she wanted.

“Then what is it? Tom, please tell me. If you’ve slept with someone else, then that’s fine. We’ll work through it.” She encouraged him to talk, hoping that opening a safe space for him to admit any indiscretions would get the ball rolling. 

  
“No! Why would you think that, Jeez (N)!” He felt his face flush with anger suddenly at her suggestion.   
  
“Well something’s bothering you and if you’re not going to tell me then maybe we should consider separating.” She dismissed him, tired. She was tired of dropping hints, hoping he would pick up on them and open up to her.

She tried her hardest to support him, to ignore the way he would always brush her off each time she approached him. But everyone had their breaking points and (N) felt she had reached hers a long time ago.

“It’s clear you don’t trust me, Tom. I’m tired of trying to figure you out. Maybe we should just -”  
  
“It’s work!” He let out, finally telling her the problem for fear of losing her. He was a fool if he was about to let it get to the point of separation, if that was what she was about to suggest. He loved her, far too much to even entertain the thought. _Just tell her, she’ll understand_. So, he did. He took her hand and sat her down, sitting face to face, his hand never once letting hers go. To (N) the smallest touch felt strange, her hand feeling lost in his.

Releasing a deep sigh, he closed his eyes for a second, gathering his thoughts and his courage. Feeling confident enough he began to tell his wife all about the troubles he was having at work, especially with one particular client, Jade. (N) listened without interrupting, wanting him to finish and get everything off his chest. When he finally indicated he was done, she offered him a sympathetic smile. Any anger resulting from the wine has dissipated, leaving only empathy and concern.  
  
“Why didn’t you just tell me, love?” She placed her other hand over his, showing him a little affection she guessed he needed. “I would have supported you, instead of you carrying it all on your own shoulders.”  
  
“I know. I was stupid and I’m sorry. I should have talked to you.” His smile matched hers. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt lighter. Free of any burdens, even if it was only for a moment. “Can you forgive me?”  
  
“I guess I have to, I am married to you after all.” She tried at a joke, hoping it would make him laugh. “But, you do owe me. Big time!” She reminded him that his neglecting her would not go unpunished.   
  
“Name your price, my lady.” He chuckled, seeing his wife as herself for the first time in a while.   
  
“Hmm, how about a kiss?” (N) suggested. “That would be a start.”  
  
Shuffling closer to her, their knees touching, his hand let go of hers to come and rest on the nape of her neck. His fingertips brushed gently over her soft skin, drawing small circles over her pulse. He loved the way she would gasp, reacting to even the smallest of touches.   
  
“I think I can grant you that, darling.”   
  
He leaned in slowly, watching as her eyes closed. After months of barely any physical contact between them, he couldn’t bring himself to tease her, his lips claiming hers hungrily. From the second they locked together in a loving embrace, he moaned, tasting her on his tongue as they refamiliarized themselves with each-other. His aim was to take things slow and ease back in to intimacy with his wife, but from one kiss he felt it would be impossible. Her soft whimpers only coaxed him to touch her more, wanting to hear her purr with delight from his ministrations on her mouth, her body, her everything!  
  
Pushing the troubles to the back of his mind, for the time being at least, he focussed only on her for the rest of the evening. It was a good thing she had sent the kids to their grandparents for they struggled to make it to their room, making love on the sofa two – perhaps three- times that night. 


End file.
